Silver Snow
by ShadowThief15
Summary: We know plenty about the boys' end of the tennis courts. But what's the girls' team been up to this whole time? They have their own trials and mishaps, victories and secret weapons. The Seigaku Girls' Tennis Team- this is their story. Humor, romance, and angst ensue!


Hello, hello. It's been a while. I'd begun to write something small for the Prince of Tennis a while back, and I must admit, I have no idea where it's going. But hopefully something will come to me soon, I can't take this painful writer's bock anymore...

The Prince of Tennis characters will be making a grand appearance later, btw. And depending on the reviews, I'll see if this story's good enough to keep posting, lol.

Love you all! Happy reading! ~ST15

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Mirai couldn't hear a thing. The only goal she had now was to get to the other end.

Bubbles danced wildly in front of her face, her vision blurry and clouded. Her arms and legs worked furiously, and her lungs burned, screaming for oxygen.

So close. She was almost there…yes!

Mirai's head broke through the surface of the water, and she treaded to the side, gasping for air.

"Niiice, Mirai-chan! Record time; 3 minutes and five seconds!" Mirai's swim instructor, Isamu Miyoshi, smiled at Mirai encouragingly.

Mirai grinned, pushing her hands against the concrete to lift herself out of the pool.

"3 minutes, seven seconds…" muttered Ishi from the bench against the wall, glancing over her notebook to frown slightly at her mother.

Miyoshi-sensei rolled her eyes at her daughter. "Perfectionist."

Mirai grabbed her towel from a peg on the wall, dripping all over the floor as she walked there. "How long did this drill take when I first applied for lessons, sensei?" She wrapped the towel tightly around herself, slipping her feet into a pair of deep purple flipflops.

"Mmm…around seven minutes." Miyoshi-sensei laughed good-naturedly, adjusting her high ponytail so that her sleek black hair was out of her face. "You've come a really long way since then."

Ishi pushed her own shiny side-bangs from her eyes and looked down at her silver Seiko diving watch. "Mom, you've got to teach Pilates in ten minutes."

Miyoshi-sensei gasped. "Oh my, I completely forgot! Ishi, unlock the showers for Mirai. Here's some money for you two- go get a couple of drinks. I've got to run!"

She threw a ring of keys and then some change towards an indifferent Ishi, who caught them deftly without looking up.

"Thanks a million, sensei! Until Thursday, then!" Mirai shouted at her sensei's petite Nike-clad figure. Miyoshi-sensei turned and waved frantically before disappearing at a sprint through the double doors to the other section of the fitness gym which Miyoshi-sensei owned.

Ishi finally stashed her pencil and black notebook into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and giving a small smile to Mirai. "Hard to believe we're related, huh?"

Mirai laughed, running her fingers through her shoulder-length silvery hair. "Actually, you look very alike, though you have completely different personalities."

"Just what I meant." Ishi strode over to the locker room and twisted the key in the lock. "If not for looks, you'd have no idea we were related."

Ishi pushed the door open, forehead creased. "Sometimes I worry about her absent-mindedness. I honestly don't know how my dad puts up with it."

Mirai took out her clothes from a blue gym locker, heading towards the showers. "Your mom is pretty cool, Ishi. If not for tennis being my main focus, I'd love to put all my attention into being trained for swimming by the woman who knows it all."

As Mirai pulled the curtain to obscure her from view, she heard Ishi's light laugh. "My mom really does have an obsession most things fitness, doesn't she? She's probably disappointed that I'm all into tennis instead of yoga."

Ishi sounded offhand, but Mirai heard the real tone behind her nonchalance. Mirai sighed, peeling off her standard black Speedo one-piece. "Ishi, that's not true and you know it."

Ishi was silent. When she finally spoke, she had changed the subject. "The ranking matches are the day after tomorrow. You nervous?"

Mirai scrubbed her hair almost vigorously with Herbal Essences, closing her navy eyes and allowing the hot water to calm her sudden rush of nerves. "Depends."

"Depends on…?" Ishi's soft monotone held a hint of confusion.

"On which block I'm put into, who I end up playing against. I just hope I'm not in Renri's block. It's a given that she'll be reinstated as a starter once again, she's a brilliant player."

Ishi sounded thoughtful. "She only _looks_ delicate…it reflects her style of tennis. A feinting expert."

Mirai groaned and twisted the shower knob, wrapping a new towel around herself and wrenching back the curtain. All this talk was definitely not boosting her confidence.

Ishi was flipping through her notebook idly. "I'm sure I would have a chance if I end up playing Renri. I know a few of her weaknesses, I trained with her for part of the summer. I also collaborated with Sae, writing up some new training regimen…even the assistant captain requires some advice now and then…." Ishi trailed off, mumbling incoherently and erasing a few lines in her notebook while Mirai rolled her eyes and began getting changed.

When her trademark Adidas hoodie sweater, in chocolate brown today, was finally pulled over her head, Mirai plopped down next to Ishi. She finger-combed her wet hair as she spoke. "Let's go get those drinks, huh? Then maybe we can squeeze in some practice time. And I promised I'd pick up Yume."

Ishi shut her notebook and stood. "Let's go."

They locked the door after them, and set off at a sprint through the double doors. They stopped briefly to buy a couple of iced teas from the vending machine, and with the cold bottles in hand they continued on their way. They ran past Miyoshi-sensei, who was lying down on a mat with her legs in the air, directing a group of around thirty or so women in similar positions.

"Going to the dojo, mom! Back in a couple of hours!" Ishi yelled over her shoulder as they wove through a minefield of exercise equipment.

Miyoshi-sensei barely nodded to the girls, lowering her legs and slowly bringing them back up in a crunch. "Now, let's work on those abs, ladies!"

Mirai stifled her laughter with a hand on their way out the tinted front doors, but then quickly used that hand to wave to Ryohei, the tanned, laid-back receptionist. He flashed her a canine tooth baring grin. "Where to, ladies?" He drawled.

"We're picking Yume up from your dad's dojo, ranking matches are coming up soon! I'll tell Yume that her loving big bro says hi, all right?" Mirai said teasingly, glancing outside towards where Ishi was waiting impatiently.

"Sure. Tell my dad that I'll be home soon, my hours are almost over. Then I have to teach a judo class at seven…my dad will kill me if I'm late." Ryohei shook his head, blonde hair shifting as he did. "Later."

"See ya!" And Mirai was out the door.

-OOO-


End file.
